He understood. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. ‘Tie a horse behind the carriage?’ he echoed incredulously. She became angry with herself.
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